The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1887-10-13

like fury, and, snatching up an axe that
stood behind the door, rushed towards me.
| welding the weapon, while her eyes flashed
and her lips quivered.
"Don't come between me an me re-
| vinger she cried. "D'ye know who led me
| husband into crime, an falsely swore him
to the gallows, who broke me heart an
ruined me lifei I'll tell ye-foxy Pad Ryan.
An whin have his son here in me power,
who'll say mustn't have blood for blood
Il followed me darlin' Dan to Cork Jail, an
saw him brought out tied with ropes, an
thin they strangled him to death. An
whin come home, found me baby dead
| from cowld an hunger; an 1 knelt down
| an prayed that the curse of all the saints
might astind the villin who brought the
desolation on me house. An here's his
son, an I'll folly him TO the gallowe toor'
Exhausted by passion, she dropped into
chair, still holding the axe, and looking
threateningly on the boy. who had crept
back to bed, and now lay gazing in terror
| at the woman. We heard voices outside,
and all three turned towards the window.
The snow had ceased, the air was clear,
and the sun shone coldly on the white
robed hills, while an icy wind moaned
through the glen. "My fatherr' cried the
boy joyfully.
A group Of men were crouched on a hill
lock outside the house, and after glancing
down the slope, they simultaneously lev
eled their guns and fired. With one ex-
ception, they then turned and ran. He
who remained was a tall, sinewy man,
with a slouched hat and a long gray over
coat, outside which a belt was fastened
His hair and whiskers were reddish, and
he had a yellow, wrinkled, hawk-like face,
that was singularly repulsive. He stayed
to watch the effect of his shot, then spring
ing to his feet, uttered shrill whoop,
brandished his gun, and was about to fol-
low his comrades, wt>~>n the whistle Of
bullets passed the Gotta. J, and after bound
ing upward, the man fe-l on his back in the
snow, and lay motionless, his arms out
stretched.
"My hostess, her face pressed against the
window, looked on breathlessly; and when
the man fell, she dropped on her knees, and
with uplifted hands, cried, in an agitated
voice: "God pardon me, for poor wicked
crayture. who forgot that her cause was in
His hands when l sought the life of an in
nocent gossoon" She staggered to the bed,
and throwing herself across the boys feet,
sobbed Historically. He, divided between
sorrow for his father and anxiety for him
self, after one sad wall of Daddy daddy!"
sat pale and trembling.
The wind brought to US the dull sound of
horses hoofs, and troop of lancers came
trotting up the glen by twos, the sunlight
glaucing from the points of their spears.
Behind, at a slower pace, two or three COM
panles of infantry climbed the rugged path.
The whole force was drawn up on the level
space before the door, and an officer, attend
ed by couple of soldiers, entered.
The poor woman was too agitated to an
swer his inquiries, and undertook to satisfy
him about the passage of the rebels and my
own identity.
"Who is this young man, madamP' he
asked, referring to the boy, who, on finding
himself observed, shrank back in the bed.
''Me son, capten-me only boy, yer honor.
Don't be afraid, Patsy, darlin'; the ham
some gintleman won't do any thin to ye."
SIS the poor lad illl'' the officer asked
sympathetically.
mo, sir; no. yer honor; but the boys
the Faynians, name, sir-frightened him,
an runnin' home, he turned his ankle be-
nathe him. That's all. capten, sir"
The soldiers departed, and soon followed,
leaving the boy bemoaning the loss of his
only relative, whose body the troops car
ried with them, while the woman tried to
console hiI.
arrived in London without further Incl
dent
Business took me again into that neigh
borhood some years afterwards, and as the
weather was fine, made an excursion to
the scene of the adventure have related.
The place was easily found, and l was
agreeably surprised by the changes that
had taken place. Patsy Ryan was still
with the widow, whose desire for ven-
geance had collapsed on the death of the
boys father. He was married, and had
three sturdy children, who called the old
lady ''grannie." The little cottage was re-
placed by substantial house; the rugged
waste that formerly ran downward from
the door, was now cultivated and fenced in
with the stones that Patsy dug from his
land; couple of cows grazed lower down;
and pigs, ducks and geese roamed about at
will.
Nothing could exceed the tenderness
shown by the old lady and her adopted son
towards one another; and as l sat before
the hearth, surrounded by the family,
could not help contrasting the comfort and
peace that now reigned there, with the
poverty, the misery, the fierce passions
that saw on my former visit.-Chansbsr's
Journal